


Three's A Crowd

by sayasamax3



Category: Magi: The Labyrinth of Magic
Genre: Blow Jobs, Double Penetration, M/M, Other, Self-cest, Temperature Play, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-29
Updated: 2014-12-29
Packaged: 2018-03-04 02:19:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2905631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sayasamax3/pseuds/sayasamax3
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alibaba’s djinn help him burn off some pudge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Three's A Crowd

“You got fat…”

The fingertips that move along his abdomen are scorching hot, leaving trails of heat over the softness of his stomach, the subtle curves of his hips, those places which refuse to let go of that last bit of pudge no matter how much he trains, and are always the first to get a bit fuller whenever he gets lazy.

“It’s time to work out.”

In contrast, the hand on his face is cool as untouched metal.  Alibaba is surprised but not by much; they may use the same fire magic, but the dark djinn is the reverse of Amon, the thing created by abandoning fate, so why shouldn’t his touch feel like the lick of a cold flame?

“Re-really guys, can’t I just go spar with someone…?” Alibaba tries to reason with the two.  But when they’re in this mood (when  _he’s_ in this mood) it’s entirely useless, just a waste of breath that he’s going to need later. 

One too-hot finger follows the line of red rope across Alibaba’s neck, giving the tail end of it a light tug as Amon murmurs, “Not a chance.”

More than just hands press against him now.  The smooth, hard plains of the depraved one’s armor bears down against his exposed front, as the warm gold of Amon’s pectoral jewelry slides over the skin between his shoulders.  Alibaba’s sense of touch goes into overdrive, the tremors that move through him becoming more and more intense as cool fingers play with his nipples while burning palms sear hand prints onto his hips.

Really, Alibaba thinks, it’s not his  _fault_  that his legs give out and he has to fall back against Amon’s chest, no matter how the motion makes his dark djinn scowl in jealousy. 

(What does he even have to be jealous of?  They’re  _both_ him, this is all just some bizarre form of unintentional masturbation, and what does it say about him that even when he’s getting laid he’s not  _really_  getting laid?  Alibaba should be the one who’s upset, not his _djinn._ )

“He likes you better,” the dark djinn huffs, even as he falls to his knees before Alibaba, the motion sleek and graceful in a way that Alibaba hadn’t thought possible for himself in any incarnation.  Cool fingers push Amon’s up, away from Alibaba’s hips and toward his chest, their chill like a balm to the skin that has taken just a little too much heat to be entirely comfortable. 

“Well you’re just so contrary,” Amon replies, which is a very nice but  _very_ understated way to put it.

The dark djinn’s hands have warmed just enough to make his touch electrifying, rather than uncomfortable when one takes his half-hard shaft in hand.  The sensation caused by familiar fingers touching him from unfamiliar angles makes him shutter and squirm, and he twists, trying and failing to find a way to muffle his embarrassing whimpers against Amon’s chest without pulling his pelvis away from his dark counterpart’s reach. 

Amon always seems much smoother in these moments than he does on the battlefield.  Maybe the fault lies with Alibaba himself, who feels competent, but never quite so competent as the people around him.  Here, when it’s just the three of them and he’s his only standard, Amon seems downright cool, shifting just enough so that his lips can connect with Alibaba’s in a heated, open-mouthed kiss, swallowing every shameful whimper and moan. 

But Alibaba can’t help but break away when the dark djinn’s mouth is suddenly on him, and at least there he’s every bit as hot as Amon.  He feels it when his cock hits the back of the dark djinn’s throat, feels the momentary struggle not to gag, and then that truly  _depraved_ djinn takes him to the root, until his nose is brushing against Alibaba’s abdomen. 

“D-dooon’t,” Alibaba groans, but he doesn’t mean it and they both know it.  He just doesn’t want to think about the dark djinn’s half-mast eyes shining with satisfaction as he savors the feeling of having a hard cock between his lips, because those eyes are  _his_ eyes, and Alibaba wonders if he wouldn’t feel right at home on his knees for another, not just allowing himself to be used but making sure that he is, and thoroughly. 

One of Amon’s hands comes down to tangle in the dark djinn’s hair and holds his head down, so that he chokes around Alibaba’s cock and little gagging noises make their way to Alibaba’s ears.  Amon’s other hand comes up first to cup Alibaba’s jaw, then to shove two fingers inside, thrusting them in and out.  It’s too much, far too much, and Alibaba comes buried deep down his depraved djinn’s spasming throat, moaning loudly around Amon’s fingers. 

The dark djinn pulls away as soon as he’s allowed and falls back to sit on the ground, rearranging himself so that when Alibaba’s legs buckle he has a place to land, cradled in the depraved djinn’s lap. 

“Nice as that was,” the dark djinn says, idly licking his bruised lips as he stares deep into Alibaba’s eyes, “I think it missed the point.  You’re the one who’s supposed to be working here.”

“And yet  _you’re_ the one who got on your knees,” Amon points out as he comes down to kneel beside them. 

“Well two-out-of-three of us have yet to finish,” the dark djinn replies, “So I think we can fix it.  Get ‘im ready, he can ride us both.”

“It  _is_ important to stretch before exercising,” Amon replies, at little too cheery as one saliva-slick finger works its way into Alibaba’s ass. 

“You’re the  _worst_ ,” Alibaba whimpers, shivering in the dark djinn’s hold as Amon’s roughly textured finger moves in and out of his overly-sensitive body.  The dark djinn’s hands are gentle as they move over his sides, his back, one sometimes coming up to pet his face or his hair, soothing the tremors that wrack his body.

“That makes you the worst, too,” the dark djinn says, then pulls Alibaba’s face down for a kiss.  It’s hard to breathe, with one, then two, then three fingers thrusting in and out of his ass, brushing over that damn spot inside him that makes him want to pant hard and writhe back onto Amon’s hand.

Alibaba whines against the dark djinn’s mouth when Amon’s fingers withdraw, leaving him feeling empty and desperate. 

“Don’t make such a face,” the dark djinn murmurs, pulling away just enough that the tips of their noses can touch.  “We’ll  fill you up soon.  But you’ve gotta do some work now, too.”

Alibaba nods and moves back so he can tug at the layers of cloth and armor that hide the dark djinn’s straining erection.  His hand is shaking, and that makes it hard to guide his djinn inside.  But he manages it, and the powerful shudder that goes through him when the head finally makes its way past the tight ring of muscle takes what little strength he’s got away, so his legs give out and he slams down on his depraved counterpart’s cock. 

“ _Fuck,”_ both of his djinn curse together, the dark djinn because of the feeling of tight, tight heat engulfing him, and Amon because of the  _sight_ —his ass clenching down on the thick base of his darker side’s cock, his back arching hard and trembling.  Both djinn grab at his hips, hot and cool spots littering his skin as they encourage him to keep moving.   

“C’mon,” Amon whispers, his chest pressed against Alibaba’s back, his lips against Alibaba’s neck.  “You can do it.  If you can’t even take one of us, how’re you gonna take us both?”

Alibaba wants to say  _that’s not helping_ , but it does get him moving again, raising himself up until the head nearly leaves him, then slamming back down again, shouting whenever he get the angle  _just_  right.  One of Amon’s hands leave his hips, moving downward to palm Alibaba’s cock, not enough to satisfy, but enough to stop him from coming too soon.  The dark djinn keeps a tight enough hold on him for both of them though, and Alibaba can already feel the bruises be raised on his pale skin. 

“Ready for more?” The dark djinn asks, and already he has one hand on Alibaba’s ass, squeezing one cheek before moving further down, one finger circling the place where they’re joined. 

  
He’s barely nodded before one smooth, cool finger slips into him. The extra stretch feels like too much, and Alibaba has to stop again just to appreciate the burn of it.  But Amon’s erection, pressed into small of his back, reminds him that there’s more to come and so he keeps moving, thoughts hazy and thighs trembling as more fingers—hot and cold—work their way into him.  He’s close, so close that he should’ve come more than once already, only Amon’s hand is a bit too tight around the base of his cock to allow for that. 

“Damn, you’re so loose back here now,” Amon whispers into his ear before biting down on one of his earrings and gently tugging.  “How can you feel satisfied if you’re still so empty?”

“Don’t tease,” the dark djinn chides, which is a blessing because Alibaba can hardly  _understand_  words right now, never mind use them himself.

“I won’t then,” Amon says, and makes good on his word.  Having a second cock pushing its way inside him really is just too, too much, like he’s being torn apart, no matter how careful the two of them are or how they try to let him control the pace. 

It’s so impossible to do much more than squirm down on their cocks, trying and failing to whine, “T—too  _full_ , god I can’t, I—“ 

Alibaba comes  _hard_ , his vision going white then dark, so intense that he nearly faints from the sensation of clenching down so hard around the two cocks buried so deep in his ass, Amon’s hand curled gently around his neck, his dark djinn’s fingers bruising his hips. 

But he doesn’t pass out.  Instead, Alibaba leans back against Amon, his whole body a shivering, useless mess of shaking limbs as his djinns keep thrusting into him, over-stimulating him when he’s truly got nothing left to give and it almost hurts except that is just  _doesn’t._

Then, finally, the others break.  His dark djinn comes first, shooting hot cum so deep inside him Alibaba thinks he’ll never be able to get it out.  But the added slickness feels good, so good and it’s hard to remind himself that he really  _can’t_ go again, no matter how his spent cock twitches like it’s desperate to try anyway.  Amon comes next, and it’s only then that Alibaba feels truly, completely full. 

Alibaba can’t help the whimper that leaves him when his partners slowly pull out of him, and he’s finally allowed to collapse, falling forward so heavily that all three of them end up in a tangle on the floor.  It’s a pleasant sort of tangle though, one where both of his djinn pet his hair and sides, kiss him gently and tell him he’s done so well, they’re so happy he’s their master, they  _love_ him.  And maybe it’s strange (or worse, narcissistic) to say, but Alibaba thinks he loves them back. 

And as he drifts off to sleep, Alibaba thinks it might be okay to say as much too.   


End file.
